Pour Toi
by Mems Derynicat
Summary: [New Professionals] Sam reflects on his birthday present. 1st person POV, Fluff, Sam Curtis x Chris Keel implied


**Title**: Pour Toi

**Fandom** : The New Professionals

**Category** : Curtis/Keel, pure unadulterated sap

**Rating** : T

**Spoilers/Warnings**: m/m, nothing else, extra mild g

**Summary**: Sam remembers his birthday.

**Feedback**: please

**Disclaimers**: Property of Brian Clemens and David Wickes Productions.

**Notes**: Very old story I wrote and posted in 2000, moved here to group all my fic in one place. Inspired by the song 'Pour Toi' by David Halliday. Song lyrics (in French) and my humble attempt at translation are at the bottom of the page. Self-beta'ed, so all mistakes are mine. Also, I am american, so I used all american spelling. I know it is a bit odd since the character is a Brit, but there you have it. Cope.

**Pour Toi (For you)**

It's my birthday today. Thirty years old. The big three-oh. I always imagined this would be a difficult one and I wasn't looking forward to it at all. It just goes to show doesn't it? This year I got the best present I ever could have imagined.

It was almost my worst birthday ever. If things hadn't turned out the way they had, I might have been in mourning instead of near ecstasy. It still makes me shudder to think how close to disaster we came…Chris almost died. The thought still… no, it didn't happen, I won't dwell on what ifs, it just makes me crazy.

Chris Keel. My partner. An over-energetic bundle of American ex-Navy Seal. I have been in love with him for years, since the first time we worked together I think. He was so beautiful and friendly and full of life, though even then I could see a hint of sadness in the depth of his eyes. Such lovely eyes too. After the first mission working together I was convinced it would be a one way affair. The one very subtle hint I sent his way didn't offend him in the least, in fact, it seemed to pass right over his head, oblivious, he was. I resigned myself to admiring from a distance (though I did my best to keep that physical distance to a minimum), but never to have him as mine. The more I got to know him the more I fell in love. But the more I fell in love, the more I resigned myself to the fact that it would never be reciprocated. He dated frequently, though never seriously. I found out, much to my shock, that he had been married, though none of the details. I think she must have died. He never talks about it, has never even mentioned her name, but he still has her picture, and he has nightmares about her (at least I think that is what his nightmares are about, he always refuses to say anything about them). It breaks my heart every time I witness it.

But back to my birthday present…

For several weeks in late April, I had the feeling something was wrong with Chris. Nothing concrete, mind you, just the impression that something wasn't right. He seemed, down, preoccupied, even tired. I hesitated to say anything at first because he can be so damned independent, and I didn't want to set him off, especially if I was wrong. He has a pretty explosive temper I have found.

In early May, Malone sent us to pick up a witness in Belfast, and it went smoothly. The only thing remarkable about the trip was that Chris and I shared a hotel room (Malone was cutting corners again, not that I ever mind sharing a room with Chris…well, he is quite the slob, but…). I woke in the middle of the night, not really sure what had woken me. My first instinct was to check on Chris, his sleep is often quite agitated, and nightmares are quite common. A quick glance proved my instincts were right. I could see Chris quite clearly; his face lit by street light which filtered through the blinds. He was sobbing in his sleep. I was torn, it was getting harder to leave him to himself in these situations, but the one time I had tried to intervene, he had reacted badly, with sarcasm and embarrassment, not the emotions I wanted from him.

I decided stealth was the answer. My watch was sitting on the bedside table, and I carefully knocked it to the floor and quickly feigned sleep. As I had expected, Chris jerked awake, instantly looking around for the source of the noise. As I watched through my lashes, he wiped the tears from his face and turned to look at me, I could see him studying me in the dark, though I was more in the shadows than he was, so he probably didn't see much. It was still unnerving, so I closed my eyes, and soon fell asleep.

The next day, witness safely turned in to headquarters I asked Chris if he was up for a drink after work. He looked at me very seriously, studying me like he had the previous night.

"I don't think so," he replied, "I think I'm going to turn in early tonight." And with that, he walked away, without even a smile to lighten the blow. It hit me then that I had not seen Chris smile in a long time, not a real genuine happy smile, and as for laughter, I couldn't remember the last time. It was one more thing to worry about, because the Chris I know and love is a happy-go-lucky guy, with a joke and a smile for every occasion.

The few days that followed were quiet ones on the work front, mostly in the office catching up files. During the day, I often caught Chris studying me, and I wondered what he was looking for. Every evening he refused to go out for a drink or dinner, repeating that he was turning in early. I was completely at a loss. I even began to suspect he was coming down with something.

May 20th. What a horrible day. The day everything went wrong. You know Murphy's Law, right? Well if Murphy has a bigger meaner older brother with a twisted sense of humor, then it is HIS law that was in operation that day. Things didn't just go wrong, they all came to the worst possible outcome.

It was supposed to be a routine check on a tip-off. It was a trap. We thought it would be easy. It was a war zone in the middle of London. We were so unprepared we weren't even wearing kelvar. There was nothing we could do but find cover and call for backup. Chris was hit just as we found a defendable corner of the abandoned building we were in. It was bad, even with no real way to evaluate I could tell. He'd been hit in the back, under the right shoulder, and I could tell a lung was hit. All I could do was keep us under cover and wait for help. Maybe the only thing that went right that day was the fact that backup got to us so quickly, even though it seemed like an eternity at the time, trying to hold our position and keep Chris from bleeding to death all at the same time.

We got him to hospital and into surgery quickly, the doctor was even optimistic. I had only been settled into a chair to wait for news for a short time when all hell broke loose in the operating theatre. Nurses and equipment rushed in and out, but no one would stop to tell me what was wrong.

Thirty minutes after the operation had started a doctor came to talk to me. I was once again thankful for Malone's rule which assured that partners were always listed as next of kin so that information such as this wouldn't be withheld.

They had used a new type of anaesthetic at the beginning of the operation, and within minutes, Chris had had a violent allergic reaction to it and gone into shock. His heart had stopped twice already and they were trying to keep him sufficiently stabilized to continue the operation. At that point they knew for certain that he had a punctured lung, two broken ribs and massive blood loss, but the complications had turned a simple bullet extraction into a very delicate operation to keep Chris alive.

Up until that point, I had never seriously considered losing him. It was like he had led a charmed life. He seemed to walk out of the most life threatening situations with barely a few bumps and bruises. Since I had known him, his worst injury had been a broken leg, and that was after a plane wreck! Now, he was in there fighting for his life. I was devastated, but tried desperately not to show it in front of the doctor or Malone and Backup (I honestly don't even know when they had arrived, they were just there).

I spent the next few hours waiting for news in a daze. I think I must have been in mild shock myself by that time. When the operation finally finished, they were still unsure he would make it, but they were guardedly optimistic. They said there was still danger until the drug was completely out of his system, and they were hesitant about what painkillers and antibiotics to use for fear of setting off the shock reaction again. At this point in his recovery, it could still be fatal.

They moved him to Intensive Care, where I could only visit a few minutes at a time. He was never conscious, though occasionally he was quite agitated. The only bright spot in my existence at that point was the fact that my voice and my touch seemed to calm him. For the first time in our partnership, I felt like I could treat him the way I had always wanted to without incurring his wrath or disgust or worse, his indifference, and I shamelessly used this new power, confident that it would not be used against me. I talked to him almost constantly (though I have no idea what I said), and touched him frequently, soothing, reassuring. I don't even know if maybe I wasn't reassuring myself more than I was Chris.

When they finally moved him to a private room, I was a wreck. I had spent three days and nights waiting for those few minutes every hour that they would let me spend with him, and I was exhausted, both physically and emotionally. They had sent me home the second night, insisting that I couldn't see him again until I got some sleep, and Malone appeared out of nowhere and made it an order. I went home, but this time, I was the one with nightmares. Finally having faced the possibility that Chris could really be removed from my life had left me feeling bereft; even knowing that he now had a good chance for survival. I returned the next morning only slightly more rested, but no one commented, and I was allowed to continue the hourly visits.

On the fourth day they moved him out of Intensive Care into a private room, and they let me visit for as long as I wanted during visiting hours. For the first day, Chris remained deeply unconscious, held there mostly by the drugs that were being administered. The next day, he began slowly to surface, though never truly regaining consciousness. I continued to stay at his side, soothing and reassuring as he surfaced little by little.

By the fifth day, he was close to the surface, but much more agitated. By the afternoon, they had him in light restraints to keep him from hurting himself. This only served to make things worse. Anyone in our line of work has a soul deep aversion to being restrained, and Chris was no exception. He began to struggle weakly against the restraints. I held his hand trying to keep him calm, trying to give him an anchor. I don't think he really knew I was there.

Near the end of visiting hours, Chris' struggles became frantic and he started to thrash against the restraints and cry out in fear. I couldn't take it anymore; I quickly undid the restraints and tried to soothe him once I was done. In desperation, I finally lay down next to him and held him, hoping with everything I was worth that a nurse didn't pick that moment to enter the room.

Much to my relief, Chris calmed within moments, and much to my embarrassment, after several minutes of watching him sleep peacefully, I dropped off to sleep myself.

I am not sure how long I slept, but it can't have been too long (no indignant hospital person came and threw me out!), but when I opened my eyes, Chris was watching me. His beautiful eyes were a bit unfocused, and he was obviously struggling to stay awake.

He is just too irresistible. I smiled, I couldn't help it. He smiled back, that beautiful smile I had been missing.

"Love you." he whispered, before those eyes closed and he drifted back to sleep.

That is how it started. My Chris was not as oblivious as he seemed ("I was in the NAVY for heavens sake!" I was not even sure I wanted to go there so I dropped the subject.). Now, two weeks later, my beautiful Chris is dozing in my arms. The doctors inadvertently released him into my care on my birthday, and I am not complaining. Malone has agreed to give me two more days to get him settled before I go back to work, so I have him all to myself for that amount of time, and I don't intend to waste a moment of it.

I don't know if he will be strong enough even to have a serious discussion about our future in that time, but for once in my life, I am sure that everything will work out for the best.

Fin

* * *

**POUR TOI (FOR YOU)**

By David Halliday with humble attempt at translation by memsderynicat 

**Borrowed without permission**

**POUR TOI**

Qu'est ce que tu cherches à me dire

Quand tu pleures seul(e) dans le noir

Quand tu retiens ton sourire

Lorsque tu t'en vas

Est-ce que tu cherches à connaître

Ce que je cache au fond de moi

Je pourrai faire disparaître

Les fantômes d'autrefois, qui tourne autours de toi

Les fantômes d'autrefois, qui tourne autours de toi

Pour toi …qui coule dans mes veines

Pour toi…qui est partout en moi

Pour toi…pour que tu te souviennes

Pour toi…

J 'ai arraché un bout de rêve

Qui dépassait un peut de toi

Je l'ai gardé comme une fièvre

Je l'ai attaché à moi, en souvenir de toi

Je l'ai attaché à moi, en souvenir de toi

Pour toi…qui coule dans mes veines

Pour toi…qui est partout en moi

Pour toi…pour que tu te souviennes

Pour toi…

J 'ai ramassé dans tes rêves

Un petit mot juste pour moi

Je l'ai volé dans ton sommeil

Quand tu murmurais tout bas

Reste auprès de moi

Pour toi…qui coule dans mes veines

Pour toi…qui est partout en moi

Pour toi…pour que tu te souviennes

Pour toi…

**And now, in English **

**For You**

What are you trying to tell me

When you cry alone in the dark

When you hold back your smile

When you leave

Are you trying to discover

What I'm hiding deep inside myself

I could banish

The ghosts of yesterday which hover all around you

For you…who flows through my veins

For you…who is everywhere in me

For you…so that you can remember

For you…

I tore off a piece of a dream

Which overflowed a bit from you

I kept it like a fever

I pinned it to myself in memory of you

For you…who flows through my veins

For you…who is everywhere in me

For you…so that you can remember

For you…

I picked out of your dreams

A little word meant just for me

I stole it from your sleep

When you murmured softly

Stay close to me…

For you…who flows through my veins

For you…who is everywhere in me

For you…so that you can remember

For you…


End file.
